


Trapped in My Web

by BipLing



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BipLing/pseuds/BipLing
Summary: Hanzo decides to meet the Talon sniper with the pretense of discussing helping her organization. Little does she know, he intends to help her.





	Trapped in My Web

Hanzo held his teacup in his hands, staring down into the thinly colored liquid. A gentle breeze passed by him; the weather was cool. All around him were various topiaries cut into oversized flowers and birds. The tea garden he chose was a perfect spot and he wanted to make sure the meeting went off without a hitch. He made sure to keep his ears trained for any unusual sound, although he knew she would likely show up without any warning. She was a trained assassin, after all. As he waited, Hanzo went over the things he was going to say. He had to be very careful. Widowmaker’s temper was as quick as her trigger finger, anything she could take as hostile would mean her shutting him out and probably trying to kill him. It was a risk he had to take. It was going to be an all-out mental game between the two veteran snipers. 

He could sense a slight change in the atmosphere; Hanzo knew very well the feeling of a sniper’s gaze being locked onto him. Amélie may have buried most of her emotions, but her murderous intent oozed out while she was on the hunt. And right now, he was in her sights. 

“You don’t have to act like this is an espionage mission, Amélie.” Hanzo spoke loud enough for her to hear, from her nest in one of the trees up above. “I just.. want to talk. Like I said beforehand.” 

Up from her perch, precariously laying herself on a high branch to get the best view, Widow found herself.. confused. It was meant to just be a simple discussion; the eldest shimada brother had finally given in and was open to assisting Talon in return for his empire. At least, that’s what he said. She knew very well that men lied nearly every time they spoke. He had to have some alternative motive for planning this meeting. 

She scowled, having already thoroughly checked the area beforehand with her infrasight. Not even his bow on him. Perhaps he did just want to talk. Hanzo’s voice suddenly shook her out of her train of thought; he was much louder than before, thinking she hadn’t heard him. 

“Amélie-” Exasperated sigh “-Fine, Widowmaker. Will you come down here already so the discussion can begin?” Hanzo grinded his teeth, narrowing his eyes with mild irritation. She was too busy sizing him up like a cat with its newfound prey. A few moments passed. “And will you please leave the rifle there?” 

Silence. 

Eventually, he heard her rappel down from her makeshift nest, delicately placing her rifle at the base of the tree. She didn’t want to leave herself defenseless, although she did so to make sure everything went smoothly. Gaining Talon a powerful ally such as Hanzo would make up for her past failures with Reaper. Widow made her way across the finely manicured grass to where Hanzo sat. 

She hadn’t noticed it before but in front of him sat a vintage Japanese tea set upon a small wooden table. Gold with blue details. He had already taken the initiative to pour both of them a cup. Widow felt an unusually awkward moment, unsure of what to do. She also felt Hanzo’s amused gaze on her, his arms crossed over his ample chest. His eyes were aglow with mischief. 

“You know, I hadn’t expected this world class sniper to be so socially inept.” Hanzo silently chuckled to himself. He could instantly feel the daggers coming his way. It was honestly enjoyable being able to get a rise out of her this easily.

“Excuséz-moi?” Widowmaker glowered, eyes burning with irritation. She could tell he was a sassy one. The two of them shared a long, tension-filled gaze. She looked forward to seeing his dread-filled expression before the final shot one day. 

Moments passed. 

“Anyways, let us finally begin.” 

Widow eased herself into a kneeling position, mirroring Hanzo. Even if she found him an arrogant nuisance, at the very least she could be somewhat polite to him. She flicked her eyes over to him, seeing him take a long sip from his teacup. Glancing down into the lightly colored liquid of her own cup, very vague memories of having tea parties ran through her head. She squinted, staring down as if they were being projected into the tea itself.  
Again, she heard Hanzo’s chuckle and the thought flickered out of her mind. Widow stiffly proceeded to take a sip of her tea, her face vacant. What was that just now? Drinking tea and throwing parties was not who she was. That life was over. It’s alright. She’d just push it down out of her conscious thought. She didn’t need things like that distracting her at a time like this. 

“So, Monsieur Shimada,” Widow placed her teacup down, folding her hands in her lap. She straightened her back, adjusting her shoulders and keeping her neck long and straight. Her entire body language commanded attention. Hanzo raised his eyebrows, being able to fully see the refined, elegant sniper he had researched so much about. He was impressed to say the least. “Talon has a proposition for you. You would simply give us your.. assistance in dealing with the pathetic organization of Overwatch and we shall assist you in rebuilding your family’s torn apart empire.” 

Hanzo tried to act hesitant and unsure, painting his face with worry. He wanted to make sure she felt in control. “And.. if I do assist your organization, how am I meant to be sure you will give me what you promise and not play me for a fool?” 

“You clearly underestimate Talon, Shimada. Do not worry, They never forget those that have assisted Them. You will get your reparations.. in time.” Widow leaned forward, scowling at Hanzo. Her expression was full of confident smugness, a curt smirk on her face. “Now then, I am here to make sure you deliver your end first, chèri. You understand, yes?” 

Hanzo saw his opportunity, staring into the sniper’s amber eyes. Her guard was down; her arrogant nature was getting the best of her. He reached forwards, capturing Widowmaker’s face gently between his hands. Her eyes widened, alarms going off in her head. She knew something like this would happen. It always did. Her hands moved to try and pry his strong hands off her, simultaneously spewing french curses at him. 

“Let go of me! Enule!” Widow snarled, trying her best to scratch and shove Hanzo off of her. It was in vain, as Hanzo’s hands seemed to have her face in a vicegrip. Her eyes darted around, still trying to find a rock or something she could use to smash his stupid face in. 

“Stop it, Amélie.” Hanzo firmly spoke, staring straight into Widow’s face. He adjusted his grip, forcing her to look back at him. 

For the first time, the two were able to get a good look at the other. They both looked mentally exhausted and worn down. Hanzo had fine worry lines between his eyebrows and dark circles under his eyes from many a sleepless night spent drowning his sorrows in sake. Widowmaker was similar, although she an almost vulnerable vibe to her. A graceful swan that had been beaten by merciless winds. Like she was about to steel herself for whatever punishment was about to come. The two snipers locked eyes, both of them feeling each other out.

“Please, Amélie..” He softened his grip on Widow’s face, caressing her jawline. Hanzo knew the look in the other’s eyes; the well of sadness that was buried deep inside them was unmistakable. It reminded him of himself years ago, after he had executed Genji. A deep, melancholic guilt that had stayed with him since. “I only want to help. You just have to let me in…” 

Hanzo continued to speak and try to persuade Widowmaker, but she heard none of it. Her thoughts were filled with the familiar look in his eyes; the exact desperation that He had. It had been so long since she thought about Him, she thought it was all but a dream. Hoped. And maybe it was. He had tried everything to get her to stop, but there was nothing that could hold back the monster inside of her. He begged, pleaded, cried. The only thing she felt was the knife in her hand plunging into His chest. She had killed him and yet here He was. 

Her vision blurred, sudden emotion overwhelming her as tears welled up. For the first time in her life since Then, Widowmaker genuinely smiled. An unusual warmth bloomed in her eyes, as tears began to drop, leaving purple trails down her face. She outstretched her hands, running nimble fingers along the arms she thought were His. 

“Oh, Gérard.. I missed you so much.” Widow’s breath turned ragged as she was brought to bawling. Her hands felt their way along Hanzo’s shoulders, chest, and neck. It seemed like she was savoring every inch of skin she caressed, making sure to memorize each subtle curve and indentation. She had long since forgotten the warmth of His skin next to hers. In this moment, He was like the sun; a bright light piercing through the veil that Talon had cast over her mind. 

Widowmaker could no longer restrain herself, the feelings she had kept frozen for so long had begun to thaw. She slipped her face out from between Hanzo’s grasp, her sudden sensual act having made him lose his concentration. He knew he had made a fatal mistake, that he had underestimated how deeply Talon had brainwashed her. He tightly shut his eyes, preparing for some hidden weapon to pierce his skin. 

Nothing came. 

Hanzo slowly opened an eye, glancing down at himself. Widowmaker had thrown herself onto him from her side of the table, knocking over the teacups and pot. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him; one around his neck, the other his lower back. She had her face pressed into the crook of his neck and he could feel her trembling body. Widow was sobbing, mumbling to herself. Things in French he could not understand. He hesitantly placed his arms around her lithe frame, embracing her as gently as he could. He felt.. awkward. She was like a fragile baby bird in his tough, hard hands. Hanzo was truly afraid of breaking her. Although he knew this moment would end soon, the weakness in her that she didn’t show to anyone else, that he had seen would be wound back in tighter than before. She would realize he wasn’t her Gèrard. 

She may choose to kill him after this, but whatever happened he was fine with. He had managed to get a glimpse of the vulnerability and sadness trapped inside her, and that’s all he had wanted. Hanzo internally sighed, closing his eyes to keep himself from losing his cool. He felt her body tense up beneath his hands, preparing himself for the worst again. 

Widowmaker’s eyes focused, blinking the remnants of tears away. What had she been doing? She felt her face against someone’s chest, was it not His? 

No. 

She had been tricked, her emotions she thought were under lock and key had been forced out and played with. Widow felt violated. Tightening her hands into fists, she scratched her nails into Hanzo’s skin. She swore to herself she would never let men use her again. She shoved herself off of him, keeping the arm around his neck there for leverage. The other she held up at her side. With a subtle sneer, Widow roughly slapped Hanzo across his face. 

Then again, backhanding him. Hanzo tasted blood. 

“You dirty pig!” Her voice shook with anger, she let loose another hard slap. She couldn’t kill him, but she was sure Talon wouldn’t mind if he was roughed up a bit. The slaps continued to rain down. 

Hanzo took the beating like the hardened ninja he was. He didn’t flinch or whimper. Each slap echoed in the openness of the tea garden. He let her pour her frustrations onto him. The inside of his cheeks were raw. It vaguely reminded him of the days Genji and him would receive punishment from their strict mother. Although her slaps weren’t nearly as hard as Widow’s. 

He heard her panting and cautiously decided to open an eye. She had laid herself out over the table, a hand brought up against her forehead. The other was clutching at the ground, ripping up the grass. Widowmaker glared up at him from her place on the table, teeth grinding. He could feel the disdain she held for him. The hatred. Hanzo deserved it all. 

“... Shimada.” Widow’s voice was hard, yet shaky. Threatening to break at any moment. Trying to reel back in her emotions like a dog let loose. “You had better not tell anyone about what happened here. Or else.” 

“Of course, Mademoiselle.” Hanzo grinned to himself, pressing a finger to his lips. “Not a soul will know of this meeting.”

Suddenly, she pushed herself up, reaching out with the hand that was covering her face. He instinctively shut his eyes, assuming it was going to be more physical punishment. But, he stood corrected. Hanzo felt her hand carefully clutch his bearded chin, tilting his face down towards her. What did she have in mind? 

Widow gave in to her momentary impulse, swiftly pressing her lips against Hanzo’s. It was like rose petals in winter; the softest - and coldest - lips he had ever felt before. He imagined this was what kissing a snowflake must be like. At first, he was completely taken aback by this rash gesture from the female sniper. But, much like a snowflake himself, he melted under the pressure of her kiss. It started out awkward and fumbling, clearly showing she hadn’t done it in a long time. Hanzo gently nudged back, trying to ease her in the right direction. She pressed firmly back, tilting her head, tightening her grip on his chin. Not one to be lead or outdone, clearly. After a few moments, she broke it off, casually wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“You had better not tell anyone about that either..” Widow trailed off, staring down into Hanzo’s face. She was clearly debating on saying something, her eyes scanning his face. Finally, a defeated sigh. “..Hanzo.” 

He openly grinned, giving her a challenging stare. She had actually said his name. It must be a sign, right? Something changed in her in those precious moments. He had gotten through to her in some way. Hanzo saw her place a hand on her hip, scowling at him. In that moment, he felt such gratification. Something changed within him as well. A warmth spread within his chest as he gazed upon the female sniper as she turned to leave - she was… So beautiful. Enchanting. He hadn’t realized it before, as all he saw was a cold husk. But now, after getting the chance to get a mere glimpse her inner workings, he felt a kinship with her. There was definitely more to her than met the eye. 

“W-widowmaker..” He stumbled. Hanzo was shocked at himself for a moment. Him? Stutter? Impossible. A dignified man such as him never faltered over his words. But, he just couldn’t help himself. She just seemed to have that affect on him. “Will I be able to see you again?” 

He swallowed. 

Widow paused, cocking her head to the side. A cocky grin was on her face, clearly aware of the way she had him under her thumb now. She parted her lips, softly whispering a single word. 

“Perhaps.”


End file.
